


A Chosen Wound

by sigo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Ben Solo is a Mess, Emperor Armitage Hux, Knifeplay, M/M, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scarification, Smuggler Ben Solo, Top Armitage Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigo/pseuds/sigo
Summary: Ben scowled into his drink. Maybe if he could find a way to subtly anger Leia the way Han always seemed to, he’d be overlooked in favor of Poe the next time a fancy event came up. He could chat up the other guests. He was, unfortunately, a bit of an expert at shallow and ineffective flirting. This may be the only setting in which that worked in his favor. Whether he wandered from rejection to rejection or hit it off with someone,  it would piss his mother off. But who to — Ben turned and almost collided with a slim man his own height.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 34
Kudos: 195





	A Chosen Wound

**Author's Note:**

> Minimal plot, porn. Sweetie Ben Solo and Asshole Hux. Here ya go. TW knife used for consensual scarring.

It was shaping up to be an absolutely dismal affair, as usual. Ben had been dragged to more speeches and galas in the last 3 months than he wanted to attend in his lifetime, at the behest of Senator Organa. Han always seemed to weasel out of them at the last second, but here was Ben, standing awkwardly in a massive Coruscanti hotel’s ballroom, by an actual tower of wine glasses, and feeling uniquely underdressed in his usual black ensemble. Poe Dameron hadn’t dressed up either, but he carried it better, and was currently laughing along with a circle of diplomats. Poe excelled at this.

Ben preferred to submerge himself in the garage and tinker with the droids, or to lose himself in the Outer Rim on smuggling runs with his father. He avoided politics at all costs.

Ben scowled into his drink. Maybe if he could find a way to subtly anger Leia the way Han always seemed to, he’d be overlooked in favor of Poe the next time a fancy event came up. He could chat up the other guests. He was, unfortunately, a bit of an expert at shallow and ineffective flirting. This may be the only setting in which that worked in his favor. Whether he wandered from rejection to rejection or hit it off with someone, it would piss his mother off. But who to — Ben turned and almost collided with a slim man his own height.

“Watch yourself,” the man quipped in a refined accent. The first thing Ben noticed was that he had brilliant red hair slicked back impeccably. Under the muted lights of the ballroom and infused with pomade, it merely glowed like well-banked embers. Ben’s chest clenched with the sudden urge to muss the stranger’s hair. Free of the immaculate styling, he imagined it would flame brighter. Ben’s eyes traveled down to meet the man’s, and that flutter in his chest repeated itself as two pale chips of sea ice stared back at him with open and cruel amusement. Oh, yes. Ben continued his downward appraisal — the man had full lips, currently arranged in a devastating smirk. He cut a clean figure, Ben’s height but half his width. Ben thought he could wrap both hands around the man’s belt and touch his fingers together. The man’s uniform belt. His First Order uniform. Fuck. Yes. This was perfect. Ben looked back up, silently praying that this handsome stranger found his obvious appraisal charming. When he met those pale eyes again, he winked. The man chuckled. Good start.

“I’m Ben,” Ben stuck his hand out for a shake. “Ben Solo. Senator Organa’s party. Uh, I’m not a Senator though. Or an aide. I’m just...here.”

“Ben,” The man said, taking Ben’s hand, “It’s my pleasure. Hux, of the First Order.”

Ben gave the man another once-over at the lack of title. First Order types didn’t usually avoid pomp and circumstance, and with his ramrod posture and haughty expression Hux didn’t seem the type to break form. His uniform was plain black, no insignia or medals, and no bands at his wrists. No hints. Interesting.

“Forgive me,” Ben said, “For a moment I thought I’d lost my mind. I was sure I was seeing a deep space angel.”

“I assure you,” Hux said at once, “That could not be further from reality.” He smiled, and it was like looking a lothcat in the face. Sharp. Feral. Ben swallowed roughly.

“What’s your poison?” He asked, turning to the drink table.

“Mind if I try yours?” Hux asked, and Ben handed his glass over.

“Careful, it’s a fuzzy tauntaun. It’ll make your lips buzz,” Ben warned. Hux took a delicate sip, and grimaced.

“Not to my tastes,” he smirked, handing Ben’s glass back. “Get me a Bespin Fizz from the bar and meet me on the balcony. I need a smoke.”

Ben’s blood sang at the orders. This was perfect. He hoped Leia had noticed. “Sure thing, Hux,” he said, “No first name?”

“It’s not to my tastes, either,” Hux said lightly. Then, “You weren’t kidding, my lips are numb.”

“Want me to get your circulation going again?” Ben asked before he thought better of it. His stomach jumped the second the words were out of his mouth, but Hux’s eyes were glittering.

Hux took a step closer. They were practically chest to chest. Ben’s heart began to race and he felt his face heat as Hux leaned in and tilted his head to brush their mouths together. The syrupy-sweetness of Ben’s drink was on both their breaths. Hux fit his plush lower lip between Ben’s own lips, an offering, and Ben scraped it with his teeth before gently sucking. He repeated the process with Hux’s upper lip and then slotted their mouths into a soft, open kiss. He kept it brief. As they parted, Hux flicked his tongue against Ben’s. The tower of glasses next to them shuddered slightly, enough to make an audible noise.

“Sorry,” Ben said automatically. A line appeared between Hux’s eyebrows, mouth quirked down in confusion. Shit. “Uh, let me start again. Ben Solo, Senator Organa’s son.”

Hux’s eyebrows lifted, but he quickly schooled his expression into neutrality. Ben reflexively skimmed his thoughts and was relieved to find intrigue there rather than insult. “And what does Senator Organa’s son want with an officer of the opposing party?” Hux purred. He added, almost as an afterthought, “Aren’t Jedi supposed to be chaste?”

“I’m not a Jedi,” Ben said, trying not to feel a fresh pang of hurt over it. He’d given up his training as his mother had before him, after seeing visions of death and darkness in his future. “Jedi are supposed to be...celibate, yes. But I’m not one. I’m just Ben.”

It was easier to dip into Hux’s thoughts now that he’d done it once, and Ben felt a bloom of heat from the man. “Ah,” said Hux, smiling wide again. “I’m glad.”

Ben felt his face heat again, and cleared his throat. “I’ll get that drink.” He said, already taking a step toward the bar.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Ben,” Hux smirked.

On his way to the bar Ben managed to catch Leia’s eye. The hard set of her face told him she’d seen everything from the shared drink to the kiss to the wobbly wine tower. It made him giddy. He met Hux in the center of the large balcony, setting the bubbling red concoction he’d requested on the rail along with his own drink. Hux had already lit himself a cigarette. It was acrid and slightly herbal, deep blue smoke pouring from Hux’s mouth and nose as he breathed out.

“Mind if I take a hit?” Ben asked.

“Have you smoked a royal before?” Hux asked, and when Ben hesitated he motioned him closer, taking a long drag. Hux guided Ben into another kiss and breathed the smoke directly into his mouth. It stung Ben’s throat and nose only slightly as he breathed it in, and his head started buzzing immediately. It was pleasant. “That’s strong.”

“Good for dull events,” Hux said. His pupils were blown wide after half the royal. He took another drag and let it out. Fixed his eyes on Ben’s. “And this event was so very dull before we met, Ben Solo.”

“Stars, you’re pretty,” Ben said. Hux laughed. His grin was, for the first time, not as sharp as a knife’s edge. He passed the royal to Ben, who was better prepared for the sting of the smoke having tasted it before. He avoided coughing on his first drag.

Hux downed half his drink in one go. “Do you want to take me to bed, Ben?” He asked as if he were asking the time.

“Fuck,” Ben said. Arousal pooled in his gut, molten and heavy.

“Yes, that’s the idea,” Hux quipped.

“Please,” Ben said. Hux motioned for his cigarette back.

“Do you have any preferences,” Hux eyed him, smirking, “As to timing?”

Ben swallowed. “I mean, uh, right now? Kriff. You’re so hot.”

Hux laughed again. Ben decided it was a sound he liked very much.

“My room is 8022,” Hux told him. He reached over and tucked a glowing keycard into Ben’s jacket pocket. “Meet me up there?”

“Yes. Stars, yes,” Ben said, eyeing Hux’s slim hips as the man stalked away. Ben finished his drink and the dregs of Hux’s, and tossed the glasses off the balcony to shatter into a million sparkling pieces in the gardens below. He felt light and bubbly like the Bespin fizz Hux had ordered. He turned to make his way to the lobby of the hotel and found himself face-to-face with Poe. The pilot was staring up at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey Benny,” he said.

Ben scowled, “My mother sent you over here.”

“We both saw you cozying up to that First Order prick,” Poe sighed. Ben bristled at that.

“You don’t know him,” he said automatically.

“Do you?” Poe shot back. “Look, Benny, those people aren’t nice. Okay? And even if your guy is, that just means he’s in over his head. Call it quits and find someone else to swap spit with.”

“You don’t get to tell me who to...to do anything with. Neither of you do,” Ben said, voice louder than was strictly polite. A few heads turned and Poe raised his hands in surrender.

“Just be careful, Benny. I love you, man,” he said softly, stepping aside. Ben pushed past and walked away fuming.

By the time he’d taken the elevator up to 80 he was simmering down. The lift was transparisteel set on the outer wall of the hotel so that you could look out on the glittering lights and busy skies of the Coruscanti capital. How many times had Ben seen views like this growing up? Too many to count, too many to remember. Hazy nights on Coruscant as his mother clawed her way to the top of the Senate. Had Hux grown up the same way? How often had he been here? Ben resolved to find out, eventually. He keyed in to 8022, one of the suites on the luxury floors it seemed, finding the room dim. The doors to the balcony garden were open. Ben made his way there.

Hux lounged on one of the couches there in a silvery robe, smoking another royal. He had showered, and though his hair was brushed back to dry, it looked softer. The sound of the garden’s fountains competed with the speeders flying miles below and above. The scent of the flowerbeds mixed with acrid blue smoke. Hux turned to look at Ben, and his eyes gleamed silver-white, reflecting his robe. Ben had never wanted anyone more.

He approached the couch without feeling a single step he took, eyes locked on Hux. When there were no more than three feet between them, Hux crushed his cigarette on the central durasteel table and stood. The smirk on his face disappeared and he yelped as he slid the remaining distance and bumped chest-to-chest into Ben. Ben wrapped his arms around Hux and buried his face into the marble column of his neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. Beneath the fresh citrus of his soap there was heady musk. It lit Ben’s nerves up. Hux’s mind was whirling with the way it had felt to be dragged forward. Like a tugging at his spine behind his navel. Ben heard the man wonder at what else Ben could do.

“I can do lots of other things,” Ben said, eager to show off. “Want to see?”

Hux pulled back to fix him with a glare. “I’ll have none of your Jedi mind tricks, Solo.”

“Those only work on the weak minded. I’m just...skimming. Sometimes I can’t help it. It’s like you’re talking to me.” Ben said sheepishly, feeling dizzy at the combination of Hux’s preening over the insinuation that he had a strong mind and his chagrin that his mind was open to Ben at all.

“Stay out of my head,” Hux admonished, but his face had softened.

“It’s not a mind trick, it’s just like talking. Here, think something at me,” Ben said, running his hands up and down Hux’s arms and squeezing his shoulders once.

 _It is supremely unfair that you are built like a Geonosian pit warrior and can also read minds_ , Hux thought.

Ben laughed and sent back, _You still have me at a disadvantage, trust me._

Hux paled subtly at the sensation of Ben’s voice in his head, and his Force presence flared with discomfort and arousal in equal measure. Spurred on by said arousal wafting off the man in front of him, Ben plucked and levitated a flower over to him. Hux took it, and looked at Ben like he’d hung the stars. Ben was suddenly aware that he was achingly hard.

“Do that to me,” Hux said, letting the flower drop to the floor.

“What?” Ben said, distracted by the tightness in his jeans.

“Lift me up. Now,” Hux’s voice was low, breathy. Excited. Ben obliged him, gently pulling Hux an inch above the ground, careful to support him evenly. “Oh,” Hux murmured, thoughtful. “It feels different than before. Can you choke me?”

Ben dropped him in surprise. Hux stumbled forward into Ben’s chest again. Ben stammered, “I — uh — that’s more, um,” he cleared his throat, “Dark Side.”

Hux laughed, grin and gaze sharp. “Thought you weren’t a Jedi, so what’s a bit of fun between us?”

“I can think of things that are more fun,” Ben said, hugging Hux against him and licking a stripe up his throat. One of his hands ventured down to paw at Hux’s ass, settling on his hip to pull him tight against Ben’s erection. Ben was gratified to feel a similar stirring beneath Hux’s robe. Hux let out a breathy sigh as Ben mouthed at his neck. His hands found Ben’s shoulders, caressing the muscles there, and then clasped around the back of Ben’s neck. In the next second Hux was climbing him like a tree. Ben giggled, giddy at the feeling of Hux’s legs locked around his hips, Hux nipping at his throat and jaw like a playful lothcat. Ben walked forward and crawled onto the couch, pinning Hux below him and grinding against him slowly. Ben groaned at the friction.

“Wait,” Hux said, and Ben pulled back to look at him. Hux produced a monomolecular blade from his sleeve. It was small and thin, only two inches long. The blade’s edges glowed blue in the night. “Now, undress me,” Hux said.

Ben did as he was told, pulling Hux’s robe open and off his shoulders. Hux was bare beneath it, and Ben’s eyes might have lingered on his cock forever if they hadn’t been drawn back up immediately, to a series of short marks along the man’s sternum. Scars. Hux gently pushed Ben back so that his weight rested on his legs instead of his arms, and then pressed the hilt of the blade into Ben’s palm. “Add yours,” Hux said.

Ben felt as though his breath had been punched out of him. He choked down the urge to ask what the marks meant. The blade’s handle warmed in his grasp. It had been a long time since Ben last held a blade. The last had been much larger than this. A practice saber. He’d been designing his own lightsaber when he made the decision to abandon his Jedi training, leaving the blade unbuilt. The crystal unformed. He’d been too afraid to begin the meditation for it — icy terror in his gut at the thought that he would emerge from the cave holding a red stone.

Ben met Hux’s eyes again, and silently presented him with a mind-picture. Hux’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his mouth twitched toward a grin. Those pale eyes went bright with desire. “Yes,” he said, “that. I want that.”

Ben straddled Hux’s lap and pressed the blade into his chest, drawing it down from the center of Hux’s clavicles to just above the copper hair dusting his pubic bone, lightly skipping over his navel. He was careful not to press it deeper than a couple millimeters. Only what was necessary. He made his cuts sure and precise, flanking this initial one with another on each side, slightly shorter. Then he crossed those cuts with three short ones at Hux’s navel, and sat back to admire his handiwork.

The existing scars were decimated under this new design. It was a minimalist etching of the saber he’d meant to build for himself — one with a crossbar. This one didn’t need a crystal to be red. Hux’s chest dripped with it, blood welling up from the cuts. The smell was overwhelming — sharp and copper like stepping off of a ship onto an ice planet. Ben realized that Hux was shifting beneath him, rubbing himself against Ben’s weight. He hadn’t softened under Ben’s ministrations with the knife. He was perhaps harder. His eyes had closed while Ben worked. They opened now, pale blue-green staring up at Ben from above a red ruin.

“Do you have bacta?” Ben asked.

“Lay the blade on the table,” Hux told him. “There’s a box there with two bottles of oil in it. Bacta would ruin your marvelous work. The dark bottle will preserve it.”

Ben laid the knife aside and grabbed the oil as instructed, dripping some out of the bottle directly onto Hux’s chest. It smelled strongly of sweet spices — cinnamon and clove and something heavier, floral. He smeared it into the cuts, feeling it heat up on his hands. The oil reacted with the blood, causing it to bubble. The cuts fizzed audibly, almost violently. Hux let out a low moan, an obscene sound that made Ben’s stomach clench.

“Perfect,” Hux said, voice hitched with something on the edge between pleasure and pain. “Stars, that’s perfect.”

“I’ll clean you up?” Ben said, pitching the end up into a question, not wanting to end the obvious enjoyment Hux was getting from his handiwork.

“I think not. Strip,” Hux ordered.

Ben stood, joints a bit wobbly. His erection had flagged while he concentrated on keeping his cuts the right depth. It stiffened anew now as he shucked his clothing into a pile on the floor with sticky red hands. The night air was balmy against his naked skin, sweat in the small of his back prickling at the breeze from the distant speeders. He’d almost forgotten they were at the teeming center of Coruscant.

“Think anyone will call the Senate’s peacekeepers on me?” Ben asked. “You look like I’ve murdered you.”

“No,” Hux said, standing. “You’re on bottom. For anyone who cares to see, I will look very much alive. Unless you have objections?”

Ben’s cock throbbed, standing at attention, red and dripping.

“No, none at all,” he said, dropping gracelessly to the couch with his legs spread. “I’m yours.”

Hux lounged on the other end of the couch, picking up Ben’s left ankle and settling it on his shoulder, appraising the view. Waves of lust rolled off him, lapping at Ben like a warm sea. It was at odds with the metal-sharp smell of blood still in the air, melding slowly with the scent of the garden. Hux held up his hand, “The other bottle, the clear one,” he said. Ben levitated it to him. Hux slicked up his hands. This oil had no scent, or very little of one. Ben couldn’t keep his hips from bucking up as Hux stroked his cock almost lazily. He twisted his wrist subtly and squeezed a perfect ring of pressure around the head at the end of every stroke, and within a minute Ben was gasping.

“That’s so good, baby,” he said. Hux snorted derisively at the pet name. _It’s not as though I know your real one_ , Ben thought at him.

 _You’re welcome to scream my family name for all to hear. I’ve only ever gone by it anyway,_ Hux answered.

 _Lie_ , Ben said gently.

“Excuse me?” Hux said aloud.

“Sorry,” Ben said, “but you did go by your first name. When you were little.”

Hux stopped and Ben whined. “If you can pluck that out of my head, why not just take my name as well?” Hux asked, curiosity nearly outweighing his displeasure.

“I can’t,” Ben said automatically, and then, “I mean, I’m not supposed to. It’s wrong. It would hurt you. I can only see what you bring to the surface. Most people think about the untruth of lies when they tell them. It doesn’t mean I can hear what they’re hiding, only that they’re hiding it.” The explanation felt clumsy — what was this anyway? Ben was no master and Hux was no padawan. He missed the man’s grip on his dick.

Hux hummed as if he had seen something mildly interesting on the morning holofeed, and just when Ben was about to groan with need and beg him to get on with it, Hux moved his other hand. He pushed Ben’s right thigh out to the side and his fingertips brushed a slow circle around Ben’s hole, slicking the ring of muscle. Ben gasped roughly, hips stuttering at the sudden contact. His heartbeat seemed harder. This was a new sensation. Play it cool, he thought to himself. Hux didn’t need to know his inexperience.

Hux rubbed torturously slow at Ben’s entrance, going round and round. “Relax,” he said. And then a moment later, when Ben hadn’t despite his best efforts, _Relax_. Hux accompanied this with a memory — the way it felt to be breached, and kriffing stars Kylo wanted that. He wanted Hux to do that to him and he wanted to do it to Hux. Ben submerged himself in the memory and felt his body respond. Hux sank a finger into him and then two, drawing them in and out slowly. He scissored them, and the stretch burned deliciously. Ben moaned out loud, loving the way the noise seemed to set Hux’s eyes alight.

Hux’s free hand returned to Ben’s cock, stroking in time with the thrusts of his fingers. He crooked his fingers and Ben nearly shouted. “Ah! There, right there...”

Hux scissored his fingers again and withdrew them. “If you’re going to moan like a two-credit whore you can do it on my cock,” he said. The words were sharp but his voice lacked venom. He slicked himself — his dick was nearly as long as Ben’s but not as thick, just like the rest of his body. Hux lined himself up and pushed in, and the stretch was more than enough. Ben groaned involuntarily, the sound wrenched from him. His breathing was tight, erratic. Hux pushed in to the hilt in one slow, fluid thrust, and then pulled out even slower. Just as the head of his cock stretched Ben’s rim, he pushed in again. He kept up this slow rhythm until Ben’s breath stabilized.

“More?” Hux asked as he drew himself out languidly.

“More,” Ben said, voice pleading.

Hux slammed into him and set a punishing pace, leaning over Ben with his hands planted on either side of his face. Ben’s left leg was still crooked up over Hux’s shoulder, his right one splayed out.

Ben moved to stroke himself, hardly able to keep time with Hux’s thrusts. He tried to leverage his hips up to meet Hux, fucking him back. _Show me what you want_ , he thought at Hux. Hux bit down on his shoulder, hard. “What the Sith!” Ben yelped.

“That’s what...I want,” Hux said, breathless. “Bite me.”

Ben burrowed his face into Hux’s throat, licking and sucking a bruise into the flesh before biting down. Hux’s hips stuttered, momentarily losing his rhythm.

“Oh Ben,” Hux moaned against his ear. _Ben_ , he thought, practically broadcasting. _You’re listening?_

 _Yes_ , Ben thought back.

 _Good_ , Hux thought, and came.

Ben’s vision whited out. He shuddered as Hux’s orgasm crashed into his mind. He could feel every movement Hux took — the minute thrusts as he rocked himself into Ben’s body through the pleasure. Ben could feel himself being fucked and he could feel what Hux felt, fucking him. He nearly screamed as he followed Hux over the edge. It was too much, too much. There wasn’t enough room in his head for it. He pushed it out. When he came to, shaking, his brain feeling jittery and singed, he realized he was crying. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. Kriff, how much had he cried, he was wet all over and...Oh. Ben dragged his fingers across his chest and realized he had striped himself with cum all the way up to his face. Probably on his face. How embarrassing.

This realization was followed by another one. They were too high up. Ben had lifted the couch, along with every other item not bolted down, up nearly foot in the air. He let a long breath out as he carefully set everything down. Something in the kitchenette must have shifted too much in the air. He heard it drop to the floor.

“I don’t usually, uh...” he began, and then met Hux’s eyes and stopped.

Hux was crying too. He was covered in Ben’s cum too, luckily not above his chest. He looked just as disjointed and singed as Ben felt. Ben thought that if he wasn’t thoroughly drained, this sight would be enough to finish him off again. Hux met Ben’s stare and huffed out a broken sob that turned into a shrill laugh. “Pfassking hell, Ben. We were floating. And I think I felt you finish. Is that, uh, normal? For you?”

“No,” Ben said at once. “I’d have warned a guy. I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“It wasn’t before?” Hux asked absently.

Ben cursed himself silently. “Well,” He said, “I haven’t exactly done...this...before. I’ve done stuff! Just not this. Will your scar be okay? I got, uh, mess on it.”

“Yes,” Hux said, “it’s already closed.” Hux was softening inside Ben, and he pulled out now. Ben spasmed and groaned with the sudden emptiness. He was sore and wet. He felt a trickle of Hux’s spend drip out of his body and onto the couch. “I could use another shower,” Hux said, as if he was the mind reader. “It’s a real one here, with water. I miss that on the ships. Join me.” Ben perked up at the invitation and at the tidbit from Hux’s life.

The hot water of the shower was heavenly on Ben’s sore muscles. He knelt down so Hux could wash his hair, and returned the favor gladly. He nearly held his breath as he lathered up Hux’s chest and rinsed the suds away, baring the clean lines of the scar. It was deep purple, but looked decidedly healed rather than raw.

Once Hux deemed them both clean, they stepped out and let the specialized dryer in the walls and ceiling blast the remaining droplets off of them. It tousled their hair, and Ben thought Hux’s was gorgeous. It shone bright orange like Tatooine’s second sun. They wandered out into the living space of the room together and Ben felt a pit in his stomach.

“Uh, thanks. Hux,” He said quietly. He didn’t want to leave, but he’d never been asked to stay by any previous hookups. “I’ll be on my way,” he said, reaching out to summon his clothes.

Hux scowled at him. “Benjamin—“

“That’s not my name.”

“—perhaps whatever unfortunate young Republican you wooed before thought that it was appropriate for you to take off before they stopped twitching, but I assure you that if you walk out my door before I’ve woken in the morning I will have you executed.”

Ben laughed, a deep, full belly laugh. “I’m not in your military,” he said. “They do executions? Rough. I’ll gladly share your bed,” Ben felt he must be nearly glowing. He almost hadn’t dared to want this, and now that it was offered nothing would prevent him from wrapping himself around Hux and holding the man all night. He added with a grin, “Wish I knew what title I should be using. To avoid execution and all.”

Hux smirked, the only reply he gave, and grabbed Ben’s hand to lead him to the bedroom.

They fell into the sheets together, kissing and touching. Ben relished every caress. He made sure to kiss every inch of the scar he’d left on Hux. They drifted off wrapped together, Ben letting his mind encircle Hux’s until he was unsure which body parts were whose.

They woke with Coruscant’s suns as light streamed over the bed. Ben traced Hux’s scar anew. It had already faded to pink. “Armitage,” Hux said.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, and Hux’s cheeks colored, body going rigid.

“It’s me,” Hux snipped. “My name is Armitage. I’ve never gone by it. My caretaker used to call me Armie, when I was small. Don’t call me either of them. Forget it.”

Ben hugged him. “I don’t like my name either,” he said. “My parents named me after my uncle’s old Jedi master. I think I disappointed them all. I don’t go by anything else, though. Not my last name. Solo is my father. I think I’ve only ever liked my name when you say it.” Hux relaxed into Ben’s embrace again. They lay like that for a while, warm in the rising sunlight. “When will I see you again?” Ben asked. Hux frowned.

“I’m leaving Coruscant today,” he said. “I’ll be back at the end of the month. I’ve got to visit the Outer Rim. There’s an event at the Arkanis Academy I am central to.”

“Are you a Commandant?” Ben asked, and Hux huffed at him. “A General?” Ben tried again.

“Once upon a time,” Hux said.

“You are too young to be above a General. You’re too young to even be a General,” Ben told him.

Hux waved a hand at him dismissively. “I’ll see you upon my return to Coruscant.” He said. 

“A whole month from now?”

“Yes.”

“Then I need one of these too,” said Ben, fingers still absently tracing Hux’s scar. “A mark from you that I can see and touch until the day I have you back.”

“Greedy,” Hux purred. Ben carefully summoned Hux’s blade from the garden and placed the handle into the man’s palm.

“Mark me so that everyone will see. Everyone who ever looks me in the face,” Ben said, voice catching with need. “They’ll know I’ve been changed. I’ll know it was by your hand.”

Hux’s breath caught in his throat, his pupils growing fat, darkening his eyes with desire. His free hand came up to cup Ben’s cheek. “You offer this to me?” He said breathlessly, fingers curling around the handle of his deadly blade. It threw fractals of light around the room. “You’re sure?” Ben nodded, straddling Hux and sitting in his lap. “I find I deeply desire this,” Hux’s voice was husky and low. It made Ben shiver.

“Then take it,” Ben told him.

The blade moved through the air with a sound like a chime, slicing through oxygen and flesh on the molecular level in one smooth movement. “I need the oil,” Hux breathed, cock stirring below Ben’s thigh. Ben held out his hand and summoned the dark vial with less care than he had the blade. It smacked into his palm and he handed it over. Hux dripped some into his fingers and pressed them into Ben’s face, following a straight line from his forehead down across his cheek and neck all the way into his shoulder. Ben felt the wound heat. It verged on pain and then tapered away into lovely warmth before he could flinch.

“Is this enough?” Hux asked softly.

“It’s everything,” Ben told him, catching Hux’s hand in his and kissing his red-stained knuckles.

Han and Leia had been aghast at Ben’s scar, demanding to know where he’d gotten it and pushing bacta on him that he refused to use. When the news story first hit, it was a reprieve from his parents’ attention. The First Order was crowning a galactic emperor, with no input from the senate. Of course, the eye of the storm was fleeting.

Ben and Han had just gotten home from the Falcon’s docking station and hardly walked in the door when Poe tackled Ben, dragging him over to the TV.

“Look!” He shouted, “Just look at this!”

It was a broadcast of the First Order’s coronation ceremony. The holofeed showed a gathering of grim and uniformed men within a vast library that the tagline told Ben was in the Arkanis Academy. In the center of them all stood Hux in his plain black uniform, with two additions: a gaberwool greatcoat hanging from his shoulders that masked his slimness, and a simple durasteel circlet, cold silver among the bronze of his hair. The holofeed announcer was droning on about the First Order’s new young Emperor Hux, crowned on Arkanis, and the clash that this political move would create with the Senate. The news broadcast switched over to the coronation again, which took place under a large tent in the pouring rain. Ben thought that Hux looked rather unamused with both his coronation and the afterparty.

“You didn’t listen to me and now look: you hooked up with the man on the Galactic news holofeed trying to tear down democracy.” Poe fumed. “It better have been the best screw of your life, Benny.”

“You know,” said Ben, “it was.” Poe grimaced in disgust.

“You will not see him again,” Leia broke in. Her face was drawn, white, her eyes fixed on the holofeed.

Ben clenched his fists and released them to dispel the Force energy buzzing there. “I will see him again. As soon as he returns, and every night after.”

“Ben!” Leia shouted, anger and dismay rolling off of her.

“Benny,” Poe began. His own aura had shifted into thoughtfulness. “You’ll do what you want, you always have, but... maybe give us a heads up? You know, if your new boyfriend plans on rounding us up for execution.”

“He wouldn’t,” Ben said automatically as he made for the door.

“Just a heads up?” Poe called after him. Ben fled, thinking of Hux’s cold green eyes when he had laughed at Ben calling him an angel. His voice purring, _That could not be further from reality._

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna plug my Kylux playlist in case anyone needs some tunes: [Kylux Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6YRMYaT5fte0cPWH5UVGW5?si=J3LTK6tkRyqlKb_taM7eHg)


End file.
